Page 12 of Thirst For Me
“I never took you for a fucking virgin. Did you needhelpback there? It’s like you’d never asked a woman for her phone number before. Thought I was gonna have to ask for you.”
When I say nothing, just start up the truck and pull out onto Water Street, then turn up Cherry Way, he prompts, “Well, you want intel or not?” He lights up a joint and I roll down the windows.
“Do I have a choice?”
“The bachelorette party checked into June Spencer’s guesthouse today.”
Makes sense. Explains why Sierra was looking for June.
“You know, right next door to your house,” he says.
“Yeah. I got it.”
“They’re here until Sunday. That’s two nights.”
“Thanks. I can do math.”
It is not surprising to me in the slightest that he knows all this. Orchard Cove is asmallsmall town. And Jace Crofton has a talent for sniffing out attractive newcomers.
I’m assuming some of the other girls in that bachelorette were attractive. It’s only occurring to me now that I didn’t particularly notice. There was Sierra Daniels leaning on my bar, and the rest of them were just a general blur.
I’m pondering this, not loving it, when Jace presses, “Come on. You’re gonna sit there with that frown on your face, pretending you’re not interested?”
I didn’t say that. I didn’t think that.
Far from it.
What I’m interested in, apparently, is doing a whole lot of naked, sweaty things with a woman who just walked into my bar. And thinking about that electric charge I felt whenever she looked in my eyes.
And wondering how she might look beneath me, naked, as I taste every inch of her body ...
“Or is this you pouting because she has to leave in two days?”
I clear my throat and try to stop thinking about going down on Sierra Daniels, because I’m getting hard and Jace isright there. “You know I don’t think that far ahead.”Not where women are concerned.
“Oh, I see. That’s how you’re gonna play it. So you’renotinterested in that total smokeshow who just stood at your bar for like half an hour, drooling all over you.”
I don’t respond. There’s no need. He’ll keep talking regardless.
“And here I thought you two looked good together. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe youdon’tlike her pretty green eyes or that round, juicy—”
“Too high-maintenance,” I cut him off, irritated as shit that he noticed her eye color. And her ass. “That manicure. That purse. And what the hell was that shirt? KPop whatnow? We’d have nothing in common. And the only thing she was ‘drooling over’ was the alcohol.”
“You’re right,” he says, deadpan. “Nothing in common. She likes to drink ... too bad you don’t own a bar and an alcoholic beverage company.”
I ignore the sarcasm. “City people vibrate at a different frequency. You know what Vancouver women are like. They flock to Orchard Cove every summer slathered in Lululemon and Sephora because they saw it on the ’gram, so they can make TikToks doing yoga on the beach to show their followers how down-to-earth they are. They’re all the same. And they’re all Type A. I’m not interestedin competing with a woman or her social media following. The power struggle alone would be a major cockblock.”
To my shock, Jace doesn’t laugh or agree. Instead, he makes a downright judgmental sound as he smokes his joint.
“And what doesthatmean?”
“So, you’re an expert on city people because you’ve screwed some tourists?” he says. “You grew up here. How many times have you actually been to a big city?”
I take the turn onto Honeymoon Lane, slowing the truck down in the middle of the road. “Should I just kick you out here, or ...?”
He snorts. “Always gotta be in control, huh?” He pinches the butt of his joint and flicks it out the window as we pass June Spencer’s property, with the oldTwisted Tree Orchardsign that needs fresh paint. “Well, I tell you what. Kinda sad that at thirty-four years old you still haven’t figured out that you can’t control who you fall for.”
It’s an oddly philosophical comment for Jace.
